The Lost Treasure of Wishnik
by Sierra Phoenix
Summary: Dawn Summers had an uncanny knack for showing up exactly when Sam didn't want her to. Crossover with Supernatural, DawnSam.


**Title:** The Lost Treasure of Wishnik (or The Case of the Stanford Kitty Caper)  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Supernatural_ or _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or any of the wonderful characters included therein. Much is my dismay.  
**Characters/Pairings:** Dawn/Sam  
**Notes:** Written for the spnbtvs fic-a-thon.  
**Summary:** Dawn Summers had an uncanny knack for showing up exactly when Sam didn't want her to. (Crossover with Supernatural)

* * *

"…and then Georgia said she saw him talking to that short, little blonde from survey lit class – you know, the one that's a poli sci major? – so, I told him that if he wanted some blonde bimbo who wants to join the peace corps, he should just _say so_ and stop wasting my time! And you know what _he_ said?"

Dawn jerked at the question, startling out of the near-doze she'd been on the cusp of since this conversation had first started. It wasn't so much that she was tired, it was just difficult to keep up with Mindy's diatribes when she really got going, better just not to try at all. Dawn had hoped that college would be a different experience, but so far it was turning out to be a lot like high school. It seemed as though Buffy had warned her as much, but had Dawn listened? No.

In all honesty, Dawn didn't like Mindy much. She was like Cordelia had been in high school, only she made Cordelia's lack-of-tact seem classy by comparison and to say she was shallow would be an understatement so vast it would – well, let's just say if still waters ran deep, Mindy would be a sprinkler. She was also much wealthier than Cordelia and her family had ever been, which probably explained how Mindy managed to get into such a prestigious school. Luckily for Dawn, Mindy was more than content to carry on her own conversations leaving Dawn time to sort through her own thoughts while periodically chiming in with a well-placed 'Mmm hmm.'

"He said that I probably wouldn't care because I only care about myself. Can you _believe_ that? As if I haven't…"

And then Mindy was off again, and Dawn was yet again left to her own thoughts. The truth was that making friends was difficult for Dawn, much more difficult than she had imagined it would be. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, striking out on her own, leaving her sister, her sister's friends, and the other slayers behind, basically anyone that she had ever known, and setting out to prove to everyone – most especially herself – that she could be self-sufficient. So she applied to Stanford, got accepted, spent _weeks_ convincing Buffy to let her go to college on her own – let alone a college located a few hours from what used to be the Hellmouth, but she'd toughed it out, even managing to talk Buffy out of sending Rona as her own personal bodyguard. Besides, it wasn't as if Dawn couldn't take care of herself, and she really felt she'd outgrown her "It's Tuesday Therefore I Must Be Kidnapped" phase. She hadn't been kidnapped in at least two years…except for that time six months ago. But _those_ kidnappers had been completely human and had no supernatural connections whatsoever; therefore, Dawn felt that it was a simple misunderstanding and did not count.

Long story short, Dawn got her college wish and now found herself at Stanford University, in the position of making friends with people who'd never heard of a Hellmouth, thought the term Slayer meant a metal thrash-band, and thought that vampires were merely something out of an Anne Rice novel. The saying '_beggars can't be choosers_' was the order of the day, and that was how Dawn found herself in the company of Mindy Perkins. That, and the fact that Mindy's best friend was Georgia, who happened to be dating Nick, who, in turn, was friends with _him_. Sam. Winchester. Even his name sent Dawn's heart aflutter.

He was, in Dawn's mind, the most gorgeous guy she'd ever seen. And that was saying a lot considering she'd grown up around guys like Spike, Angel, Xander, Riley…the list went on, and, still, Sam had a way of turning Dawn into a puddle of goo. Tall, lean body, floppy hair, expressive eyes that seemed to hypnotize Dawn and send her brain on an extended leave of absence. Quite literally, it seemed, because every time Dawn was within five feet of Sam, all her higher thought processes abandoned her and she found herself either jabbering like an idiot or tripping over her own two feet. The girl who had once slayed uber-vamps couldn't string together two coherent sentences in the presence of this man even if her life depended on it. And she'd had ample opportunities to do so, managing to run into him in their shared freshmen classes and several other random times on campus: in the library, in the café, in the little pub and grill where most of the campus's co-eds hung out; they even bumped into each other when they were both on a late-night walk around campus – well a late-night patrol in Dawn's case. Old habits died hard. At this point, Sam probably thought she was stalking him, which was, mostly, not the case. Really.

Their most recent run-in ended with her chocolate milk shake somehow finding its way onto Sam's shirt. It was no wonder that every time Dawn ran into Sam, he looked like a wild animal, cornered and ready to bolt at a moment's notice. However, Dawn kept thinking that eventually her nerves would wear off or she'd get lucky and manage to get through a conversation (consisting of more than nonsensical ramblings) without spilling something on him or dropping considerably heavy books on his feet.

While Dawn was considering the bleakness of her situation, Georgia and Nick showed up at Dawn and Mindy's picnic table in the quad, bringing with them the object of Dawn's longing.

"Georgia!" Mindy squawked loudly, efficiently dragging Dawn from her deep thoughts and alerting her to the newly-arrived trio. "Sit down," Mindy ordered. "I was just telling Dawn about what happened with Tim."

Georgia gave Mindy confused frown as she gingerly took a seat next to her friend. "Don't you mean Todd?"

Mindy spared Georgia an annoyed look, as if her boyfriend's correct name were an inconsequential detail. "Whatever. The point is he clearly doesn't deserve me."

Mindy immediately began recapping her argument with Tim, Todd, whoever, and Dawn tuned them out, having already heard far more about the inner workings of Mindy's mind than she cared to. Instead, she took a deep breath and focused her attention on _not_ making a fool out of herself this time.

"Hey, Sam," Dawn greeted and thought _so far, so good_.

Sam warily eyed Dawn's latte cup for a moment before carefully choosing a seat well out of the perceived splash-zone, then gave Dawn a tentative smile as he returned, "Hey, Dawn."

Sam's smile momentarily caused Dawn's world to tilt, and she had to give herself a mental-slap to regroup. So he didn't trust her around liquids, and rightfully so, but he did know her name and he _smiled_ at her. She decided to take what small victories she could find.

As Sam went about pulling his lunch out of his backpack, Dawn wracked her brain for things to talk about. Obviously, all things supernatural were off-limits, so what else could she talk about? Guys liked sports, so she could try to talk to Sam about sports…if she actually _knew_ anything about sports. Since she didn't know much else about Sam that really left only one thing that she _did_ know that they had in common, which were their classes. More specifically, they'd both had Doctor Jefferson for Survey Literature this morning. That seemed like a good starting point.

"So that Jefferson," Dawn started, giving him a wide smile. "Man, he just drones on and on and on, doesn't he?"

Sam turned to her, brow furrowing slightly. "Actually, I thought today's class was pretty interesting."

Dawn's smile faltered. To tell the truth, she'd been too busy staring at Sam across the room to pay any attention to what the professor had been talking about; for all Dawn knew, it had been a life-changing hour and a half. "Oh, um…right," Dawn muttered finally, heaving a sigh.

"Well, you know, Shakespeare isn't for everyone," Sam told her, offering a small consolation.

She'd missed _Shakespeare_?! She loved Shakespeare! She fought off a groan and tried a different approach. "Maybe we could get together sometime and study. You could help me out with my Shakespeare."

For a brief second, Sam reminded Dawn of a deer caught in headlights, wide-eyed, too panicked to drag himself out of oncoming traffic. "Um, sure," Sam stumbled over the words, and Dawn just hoped that she was imagining that wince.

Dawn shouldered on, ignoring Sam's hesitation, "We could get together tonight. Or tomorrow night if you're busy. Or maybe in the afternoon sometime. Um, and we could meet at the library, or my place," where Dawn's roommate was constantly playing heavy metal, "or not my place. How about your place? Or we could—"

"What did you just say?" Sam cut in.

Dawn was about ask Sam to clarify, cause she'd managed to say a lot in the past few seconds, then she realized that he wasn't actually talking to her, or even listening to her it seemed.

Mindy, toward whom Sam's comment had been directed, looked startled and annoyed at having been interrupted during one of her rants. She glared at Sam and repeated, "I said Tyler—"

"Todd," Georgia reminded, only to be given a glacial look for her helpfulness.

"Whatever. I said _he's_ the one who never cares about anything but himself—"

"No, before that." Sam cut in, risking more of Mindy's wrath. "He said his cat is missing?"

Mindy rolled her eyes, "Apparently. It's the only thing he's talked about for the past two days. And he says _I'm _selfish. At least I'm not moaning over some stupid—"

"That's really weird," Sam said thoughtfully.

Mindy huffed angrily at being interrupted, yet again, and said, "If you say so. What is it with you cat people?"

Sam grimaced as if he were having to really restrain himself from saying something rude to Mindy – and Dawn knew just how difficult it could be not to do that – but instead he tried to explain. "I just mean that's the fourth person I've heard about today who's recently had a pet go missing."

Nick scoffed, "Stranger than you know man. Today's paper had an entire page dedicated to ads for missing pets."

It was on the tip of Dawn's tongue to say something – probably something incredibly stupid about how maybe the pets had decided to run away together and join the circus – but the more she thought about it, the more it struck her how right they were. This was weird. Very weird. Possibly Sunnydale-weird.

Only one possibility came to mind that could explain that many missing animals – sacrifices. And if some cult out there was sacrificing that many animals in an attempt to accomplish some dark magic, it would only be a matter of time before they upped the stakes and started sacrificing people. And human sacrifices typically involved either the darkest of magics or some of the sleaziest demons. Either way, it was putting a serious queasiness in Dawn's stomach.

She had to do something, but what? She was here alone; no Buffy, no other slayers or watchers. What could she do? Well, she could start where they always started when something came up. Research. _That_ she knew how to do. By the time she'd gone away for college she'd been almost as good at research and translations as Giles and Willow. All she'd need was a starting point. And fast. People lives could be at stake, and the only person around who might have a chance at saving them was Dawn. The sooner she got started, the better for everyone.

"So if it's not too much to ask can we please forget about Fluffy and put a little more focus on _my_ pain? I mean, I'm having a real crisis here and I—"

Dawn jumped out of her seat suddenly, knocking over her latte in the process – luckily, this time, toward Mindy (who shrieked) instead of Sam. She hastily began gather her bag and books, mumbling an apology, "I'm sorry, I just remembered…something…I really have to…bye." Without further thought or explanation, Dawn ran off, leaving four confused (and very soaked and annoyed, in Mindy's case) people in her wake.

* * *

Dawn Summers had an uncanny knack for showing up exactly when Sam didn't want her to. Not that Sam was trying to avoid her…well, okay, so actually he _was_ trying to avoid her, but only because he always seemed to end up drenched in some beverage or nursing bruises whenever he did run into her – or she ran into him, literally, as the case may be. Not to mention, she had the worst timing known to man.

Half the time that Sam and Dawn had a run-in, Sam was usually preoccupied with something in which he didn't want anyone else getting involved. Usually, because he didn't want to put anyone at risk.

It was ironic really. Sam went off to college with the sole intention of making a _normal_ life for himself, so of course he had to pick one of the nation's most haunted universities. He guessed Stanford neglected to put that little piece of information in their promotional brochures. What was really ironic was that hunting was the only time Sam truly felt at ease in all the time he'd been at Stanford.

Sam tried to ignore it all for as long as he could, but a little voice in the back of his head – one that sounded suspiciously like his brother's – said he couldn't just turn his back on all of his training or on the apparent danger. It wouldn't be safe, more than that, it would just be plain stupid. Old habits were more difficult to kill than a banshee.

And to make matters worse, every time Sam found himself reluctantly on the hunt for something, Dawn found _him_. If she didn't seem like such a genuinely nice girl, Sam would almost worry that she was stalking him. And although she seemed nice, she was more than a little klutzy – a fact many of Sam's shirts could attest to – and she didn't seem particularly bright; Sam could rarely understand half of what she said, but then he couldn't imagine why any smart or sane person would subject themselves to Mindy Perkins.

But she seemed to go out of her way to be nice to him or engage him in conversation, so he felt a little guilty that he was always desperate to get rid of her or give her the brush-off. But almost every time she stumbled upon him, he was either right in the middle of something dangerous or quickly on his way there, usually in a situation where time was a definite factor. It was almost like she could sense the exact moment Sam found trouble and made a deliberate attempt to put herself in trouble's path. So far he'd gotten lucky and been able 'ditch her,' so to speak, without her being any the wiser and without her getting hurt. He could only hope his luck held tonight.

He had no idea what he would be dealing with, but he doubted that it would be good. Animals didn't just go missing like that, not in such large numbers. Something, or someone, had to be taking them. And maybe his past had made him paranoid, but he doubted they were being taken for an all-expenses-paid pet-vacation. His gut was telling him that these pets were being used for sacrificial purposes, and things like that never ended well.

He'd gone through the newspaper, checking out the homes where pets had gone missing, and found that the abductions had all happened in the same neighborhood, just off campus. He figured it was the best place to start, or more to the point, it was the _only_ place he could think to start, so he decided to stake it out tonight and look for anything out of the ordinary. That was how he found himself creeping around through the bushes, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be found by a cop who thought he was a burglar, or worse, found by Dawn Summers.

He kept to the shadows, hiding behind trees and bushes whenever possible, all the while keeping a watchful eye and listening carefully for any stray sounds. It wasn't long before rustling drew his attention to a tall shrub, a scant few feet away, and he crouched down, tightening his grip on his curved-blade knife, one of the few weapons he'd brought with him when he'd left home – or rather the latest motel passing for home.

He was tense, waiting for just the right moment, readying to pounce on whatever came out of that bush when out stepped – Dawn Summers.

"Dawn?" Sam blurted out incredulously before he'd even given thought to what he was going to say.

Dawn spun around, surprisingly raising a crossbow in his direction with deft quickness. "Sam? _What the hell are you doing here_?"

Sam was taken aback, not only because of the harshness of her question but because that question was the most well put together sentence he'd ever heard Dawn manage in his presence. He was so shocked that he didn't even have time to give a response before she started speaking to him again.

"I mean…you have to go. Right now. Somewhere else."

So much for her making any sense, and what made her think she could boss him around like that? "I have just as much right to be here as you. And just what _are _you doing here? With a crossbow no less."

Dawn startled as if she'd only just realized that she was still holding a crossbow on him, and she dropped it down to her side. "It's for a history project."

"And the reason you're toting it around through the bushes in the middle of the night?" Sam asked.

"Also…for a history project," Dawn hedged. "Now would you please go so I can finish my project?"

"You know, we're in the same history class and I don't remember Randall assigning any projects," Sam pointed out suspiciously. Her excuse was about as flimsy as a sugar cube in the rain.

Dawn fumbled briefly before finally answering, "It's for extra credit. My grades are flagging this semester, and I really need to bring them up, so Doctor Randall said if I could…um…actually, you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. You're looking awfully shady out here, sneaking around and scaring people. What exactly are _you_ doing out here?"

Sam was quick to answer, having spent his entire life lying his way out of sticky situations. "I was just going for a jog."

"In the middle of the night?" Dawn questioned, not to be easily deterred.

"I'm not much of a morning person," Sam replied easily.

"And you brought your wicked dagger with you because?"

_Damn, he'd forgotten about that_, though to be honest he never would have imagined that Dawn could be so observant; however, Dawn was turning out to be quite the interrogator. Resisting the irrational urge to hide the weapon behind his back – after all, that wouldn't do any good now – he gave her the most logical excuse he could think of. "It's for protection."

"Because pepper spray is so passé," Dawn returned sarcastically.

"Look, would you just beat it?" Sam said with a raised voice, finally getting fed up.

"You're the one on a late-night jog. Don't let me stop you. Just…jog on," Dawn stated, waving her hand in a shooing motion.

Sam managed through gritted teeth, "I'm not going anywhere. _You_ leave."

"No, _you_ leave," Dawn returned.

"You leave."

"You leave."

"You le—"

The sudden sound of a branch snapping had both Sam and Dawn stopping and turning to their left, weapons at the ready and bodies tensed for action.

"Don't hurt Wishnik!" A small voice squeaked.

Both hunters stared with dumbfounded expressions at the creature in front of them. It was roughly six feet tall, though most of its height was attributed to the wild mane of hair that stood straight up over it's head, a couple feet's worth of bright, neon-pink locks. It had a squat, pudgy body and a large, rounded stomach with a pink jewel in its naval. There was a small, tabby kitten in its plump little arms, seemingly unharmed and unconcerned with its current state. The creature's large, blinking, black eyes stared mournfully back at them above an over-sized nose, and when it spoke, it sounded as if it had spent the better portion of the night inhaling helium. "Wishnik only wants his treasure back."

For a full minute, Sam could do little more than gape. He gave Dawn a sidelong glance, trying to wager what her reaction would be. Most girls in her place would either run away screaming or pass out at this point. Sam really hoped she didn't do the latter because he didn't want to carry her around all night.

As it was, Dawn was the first to break the silence, "Are _you_ Wishnik?"

The creature nodded, neon-pink hair flapping with every head bob.

Dawn canted her head to the side, looking the creature over. "Are you…are you a treasure troll?"

The creature, or troll rather, gave another nod. "Many years ago a toymaker took Wishnik's treasure in order to make many toys that looked like Wishnik. He promised to return Wishnik's treasure, twice as big as before, but Wishnik never saw the toymaker again."

"That's so sad," Dawn commiserated with real feeling

Sam gave her a querulous glance, then cleared his throat and gave his head a slight shake to clear away the last of the shock that seeing the troll had given him. "And how are you planning to get your treasure back?" he asked.

"Wishnik has many small animals and is holding them for ransom. Wishnik has seen it done on TV. However, it is not working so well for Wishnik."

"Well, did you leave a ransom note?" Dawn asked helpfully.

Sam gave her another strange look to which she merely shrugged.

Wishnik nodded again and handed her a rumpled piece of paper. "Wishnik has left many notes, everywhere."

"Yeah," Dawn said, drawing the word out slowly after looking at the paper for a few seconds. "I doubt many people can read trollish," Dawn explain, grimacing with sympathy.

The troll grimaced too. "Wishnik had not thought of that. No wonder no one has brought Wishnik treasure. And the small animals have nearly eaten all of Wishnik's food. Wishnik is very sad."

"So the animals are all okay?" Both Dawn and Wishnik looked at Sam like he'd asked the most impolite question. "What? I'm just asking."

"Wishnik would never hurt small animals," the troll said, its helium-pitched voice shadowed with indignation.

"Wishnik," Dawn began in a placating tone, "have you tried talking to a lawyer?"

"A lawyer?" Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't suggest it first. Aren't you pre-law?" Dawn asked.

"Well, yeah…but…this is crazy," Sam spluttered.

"Look," Dawn explained. "He made an agreement with someone who didn't follow through. When something like that happens, most people get a lawyer."

"The keyword there being _people_. As in _humans_." Sam was beginning to think Dawn was a lot weirder than he had previously given her credit for. Had she not realized that they were talking to a _troll_?

Dawn seemed to ignore this statement, simply rolling her eyes and heaving a put-upon sigh. "I think some friends of mine can help you, Wishnik. What do you say we return these pets to their homes, and I'll put you in touch with my lawyer friends in L.A."

Wishnik nodded vigorously, his vibrant hair undulating wildly. "Wishnik is getting very tired of climbing in and out of windows."

Sam had a feeling it was going to be a long while before he'd be able to shake the image of a treasure troll crawling in and out of people's window in the night.

Dawn, on the other hand, grinned as though it were the cutest thing ever. "You remind me of those little guys in the _Gremlins_ movie. Before they became, you know, _gremlins_."

The troll nodded and began walking, Dawn following close behind. "Wishnik should have gone into movies as Gizmo suggested, but Wishnik did not listen to his old friend."

"Wait, so you actually know Gizmo?" Dawn asked excitedly, like they were talking about some major celebrity rather than a major furball.

"Gizmo and Wishnik go way back."

"That is so cool."

Sam could have sworn Dawn was almost giggling at that. As he followed slowly behind the two, bringing up the rear, he tried to figure out at what exact point his night spiraled into the twilight zone.

* * *

Three and half hours, twelve returned cats, and five returned dogs later, Sam and Dawn were helping Wishnik to load his luggage into the back of his well-kept convertible.

"Now remember, ask for Angel and tell him Dawn Summers sent you."

Sam cringed when Dawn actually leaned forward and hugged the little troll. Helping it out was one thing, but hugging it was entirely another. He hoped he wouldn't be expected to squeeze the crazy-haired troll.

Wishnik stopped before getting into his car, giving both of them a creepy little grin. "Wishnik appreciates your help. Perhaps, in return, Wishnik could grant you a wish—"

"No!" Dawn yelled in alarm, then softened her voice and added, "Wishes and me never end well."

"Ah," the troll said in a knowing tone. "You must have met a vengeance demon."

"More than one," Dawn said regrettably.

"Wishnik bids you good fortune," the troll said in parting before getting in the car behind the steering wheel. And from the looks of things, it was a tight squeeze. He gave them small, pudgy-fingered wave before driving off into the night, top down and neon-pink hair waving about wildly with the wind.

As Sam and Dawn stared after him, watching his taillights fade into the darkness, Dawn commented absently, "It'll take forever to detangle his hair after this trip."

Sam took a moment to digest that random comment, which was really just the icing on an extremely bizarre night, and then said, "So let me get this straight. You grew up on a Hellmouth. Your sister is a vampire slayer. She once dated a vampire, who had a soul. He now runs a law firm in L.A. that used to be evil, but is now reformed, and you think they'll be able to help…Wishnik with his legal problems."

Dawn gave the string of information some consideration. "Yeah, that pretty much sums things up."

Sam nodded disbelievingly. The truth was he had more questions about Dawn now than he had answers; he didn't know where to start asking questions, and even if he had a starting point, he wasn't sure he could handle anymore strangeness in one night.

Sam stared off into the distance to where Wishnik had disappeared. "This has been a really….really…weird night. And I've had some pretty weird nights."

"You and me both," Dawn echoed, staring off into the same direction. "So what's your story? No, wait, let me guess. You're a freelance demon hunter."

Sam hesitated with his answer, years of hearing his father's lectures about not revealing what they do still rang in his ears, even now when his father was, more than likely, thousands of miles away. But, technically, it wasn't giving away a secret if she'd already guessed it, right? And it wasn't as though she didn't have secrets of her own to keep.

"Yeah, pretty much," Sam finally answered. "I guess you could say it's sort of a family business."

Dawn nodded her head as if that explained everything. "Then I'm going to guess that since you're here at Stanford it's either because you wanted to do the 'normal life' thing or because your family decided they needed to get you away from the 'not-so normal life' thing. And considering you were out jogging in the middle of the night with your trusty hunting knife, I'm going to bet you're here because of the latter."

Sam was quiet for a moment before correcting her assessment. "Actually, I'm here because of the former. In fact, my family wasn't exactly happy with me when I decided to come here. And that's understating things."

"Oh," Dawn returned, surprised. She gave him a quizzical look, quirking one eyebrow. "You know, if you're trying to do the 'normal life' thing, then wandering around at night, looking for demons, is probably not the best way to go about doing that."

"Yeah," Sam conceded. "I haven't been having much luck with that method. It's just kind of difficult to…"

"Let go?" Dawn finished for him.

He nodded, sighing deeply and bringing a hand up to anxiously rub the back of his neck. "I just don't want my entire life to be about demon hunting. I want to have something…more. Though I guess once you know the truth about what's out there, you can never forget it." He didn't know what he meant exactly by more, and he didn't know why he was finding it so much easier to talk to Dawn all of a sudden, but he had a feeling she understood. This was the first time since he'd left Dean and his dad behind that he actually felt some small semblance of belonging.

She didn't try to give him advice or a pep talk or tell him what he should or shouldn't do; she just listened, warm and unbiased, and when he'd finished sharing his worries with her, she said, "I know you kind of want to stay away from all the weirdness and stuff, which means you probably won't want to hang around me since I tend to attract…well, weirdness, but I was thinking if you want to, maybe, talk some more or something that we could, I don't know…get a cup of coffee?"

It was difficult not to say yes right away to those pleading blue eyes of hers, but Sam managed to hold his tongue, giving her offer some serious thought. He gave a contemplative sigh and a reluctant grimace. "I don't know, Dawn." Her crestfallen expression had Sam wanting to take the words back immediately, but he pressed on. "But maybe we could, on one condition." At Dawn's eager nod, Sam made his one request. "So long as you promise not to spill anymore coffee on me. I'm running out of clean shirts."

Dawn's grin lit up her entire face and made Sam wonder how he'd never noticed before just how pretty she was. "It'll be quite the undertaking, but I think I manage." Her grin took on a wry slant, and she added as she began walking, leading them away, "Especially now that I have your attention. I don't need to go throwing drinks on you anymore just to get you to notice me."

It took a few seconds for her last remark to sink in, but when it did, he shouted, "What?!" He caught up with her and fell into pace beside her, and, together, they made their way to the nearest all-night café, bumping arms with each other, telling old stories, and chuckling the whole way. For the first time in a long time, Sam didn't feel alone.

END


End file.
